Reaching Out I . . .


a house is quieter still in the morning after guests have left
echoes of conversations and laughter slowly fade back into the sun-flecked walls to return upon memory’s reflection

embracing the silence involves letting go of the fear that it is only the calm before the storm but failing to take advantage of the times to simply breathe leaves me breathless when the inevitable tempests come

i know not what this day holds only that it is held by a hand stronger than mine
open to clasp my own if i will accept the invitation

reaching out i . . .


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